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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23016886">Romantic Gestures</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ovipositivity/pseuds/Ovipositivity'>Ovipositivity</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Cara is Crude, Developing Relationship, Exiled to the Fuck Zone, F/M, Romantic Friendship, Romantic Gestures, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:35:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23016886</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ovipositivity/pseuds/Ovipositivity</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Mandalorian and Cara Dune relax on a well-deserved camping vacation, where he plans to surprise her with a romantic dinner and talk about his feelings. Cara doesn't really do feelings.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cara Dune &amp; The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Romantic Gestures</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time Cara Dune and Mando had crossed paths had turned into a fight almost immediately. It occurred to Mando that even now, months later, every interaction they had was basically just a continuation of that first fight.</p><p>On top of him, Cara let out a groan like a wounded blurrg and convulsed. Her pussy spasmed around him, squeezing his already-softening cock to the point of pain. H’d cum first, as he almost always did, but she never released him from his duty until she’d finished, too.</p><p>Panting, face slick with perspiration, Cara rolled off him and sprawled across the speeder bed. They’d rented a speeder-truck from Gevae for this trip, but they hadn’t even had time to unpack it before Cara had jumped on him. That was another thing he liked about her: when she wanted him, she wasn’t shy about letting him know.</p><p>In their haste, they’d barely managed to disrobe. Cara had practically torn her shirt off, but she still wore her armored pauldrons and her gauntlets. Mando was still armored from the waist up. Cara had simply removed his cuisses, greaves and pants with one solid, economical yank. She didn’t waste time.</p><p>It was never more than now, basking in the afterglow, that Mando felt confined by his armor. Not his helmet, no, never his helmet—that was a second skin—but he was terribly aware of the way his gauntlets insulated him from the world. They were sensitive, of course, far more sensitive than human skin due to the temperature sensors and pressure bars woven into the microfilament mesh, but he couldn’t <em>feel</em> through them the way he could with bare skin. Some Mandalorians, he knew, embraced the way of <em>beyt’ara, </em>steel skin. Their vow to never remove their armor extended from the tops of their heads to the tips of their toes. He respected such dedication, but he pitied them, too.</p><p>Next to him, Cara shifted. She rolled over, one arm looping around under his neck, the other falling across his armored chest. Her heavy breasts, sweat-sheened, pressed against his pauldron. Her head nestled into the space between his helmet and shoulder.</p><p>“This is nice, isn’t it?” she said. Mando could hear the smile in her voice. “No kid for a week. Just us, plenty of fresh air, mountain trails… I heard there’s wild varactyls living up here. We could do some hunting.”</p><p>Mando didn’t reply. He was working the disengage clasp on his gauntlet. It caught, and cold air puffed from the sealant ring. He grabbed the gauntlet by the wrist, twisted, and pulled.</p><p>The sudden cool breeze against his bare skin raised goosebumps. He flexed his fingers in the air. Cara chuckled.</p><p>“Oh, <em>now</em> you’re stripping down, Mando? Little late for that, don’t you think?”</p><p>He half-turned towards her and reached out to caress her shoulder. Her skin was warm, still flushed from her recent exertion. He’d known she was warm before, of course—the sensors in his gauntlets’ fingertips had told him as much—but he hadn’t known what that warmth <em>felt</em> like. Now he did. And the softness of her skin… Cara Dune was a hard woman, and life among the Rebellion had made her harder, but there was a hidden softness to her. Mando’s fingers traced along the arch of her collarbone, down the bridge of her neck, across the smooth expanse of her chest. Her breasts shifted as she rolled over slightly, exposing dark, pebbled areolas and the tiny cones of her nipples. Fat silver barbels pierced both nipples, gleaming against her tawny skin. Mando’s fingertips brushed feather-soft across those nipples, drawing a shallow gasp out of Cara’s throat.</p><p>Her steel-clad fingers closed around his bare ones, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to make a point. She gently but firmly lifted his hand off of her.</p><p>“Uh uh, Mando. Look, but don’t touch.”</p><p>There were times when he was grateful for the all-concealing helmet he wore. Now was one of them. He nodded and withdrew his hand, then sat up in one fluid motion. His pants were still tangled around his ankles and his cuisses and greaves lay scattered across the truck bed. He pulled the former up and then bent down to pick up the latter.</p><p>Cara watched him change without making a move to stand up herself. “Nice legs, handsome,” she said, and chuckled. “Calm down. Sun’s not going down for another three hours.”</p><p>“I want to get the tent up,” he replied. “And establish a perimeter.”</p><p>Cara shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She sat up and started pulling her shirt back on. “Take it slow, Mando. This is supposed to be a vacation, remember?”</p><p>They’d packed light: a collapsible tent, a prefab cooking station, a string of sensor beads. Mando strung these through the trees around the campsite. They’d alert him to any trespassers. He wasn’t expecting trouble—but then again, trouble usually showed up when you weren’t expecting it.</p><p>He grabbed one last crate off the speeder’s bed. Inside this, beneath folded heat-retaining blankets and a pair of magnoculars—was the most important item he’d packed. He stole a glance at Cara, but she had her back to him, checking the charge on her rotator cannon. He set the crate down next to the tent, lifted the blankets to make sure his special parcel was still there, then straightened up.</p><p>“How about that hike?” he asked.</p><p>Cara smiled. “Race you to the top of the ridge?”</p><p>By the time they returned to camp, night had fallen. This high up, there was close to no light pollution. The night sky was full of stars, thousands of them, scattered across the black velvet of space like pearls. Somewhere out there was Mandalore. Somewhere closer were enemies: Gideon, the remnants of the Empire, rival hunters, and who knew what else. But they were far, far away, at least for tonight, and Cara was close by. Mando’s heart sped up a little. He knew what he had to do, but actually doing it was another thing altogether.</p><p>“Come on! Cara hungry!” Cara rubbed her belly in an exaggerated motion. “Thirsty, too. You brought booze, right?”</p><p>“Hold tight. I brought everything, don’t worry,” Mando said. “Look, I’ll take care of dinner tonight. Don’t worry about it.”</p><p>“You sure?” Cara cocked her head at him. “Suit yourself. Where’s the alcohol?”</p><p>“Grey crate on top of that pile.” He pointed to indicate it. “Don’t drink it all in one night.”</p><p>Cara laughed. “No promises!” She sauntered over to the crate and rummaged around inside. Mando waited until he heard the fizzing crack of a can opening, then scuttled over to where he’d left his special parcel.</p><p>He carried it into the tent, carefully maglocked the flap, and opened up the box. Inside was everything he’d managed to scrounge. First, he set out the blanket: fathier hide, smooth as silk. Next came the candles, made from Durosian waspwax. He lit each with a flick of his flamethrower’s igniter. They immediately cast a warm glow around the inside of the tent and filled the air with sweet scent. He laid out two ration packets, then reached into the very bottom of the box and pulled out a bouquet of Sullustan demi-roses. Their petals unfurled as they tasted the air, spreading in a fractal spiral pattern. These hadn’t been cheap, and hiding them from Cara hadn’t been easy, but he saw now that it was worth it. Even after they had unfolded, the petals were still moving, constantly rearranging themselves. He stared at them for a moment, hypnotized.</p><p>Everything was ready. There was only one ingredient left. Mando steeled himself, gathered his courage, then stuck his head out of the tent flap. “Cara!” he called. “Dinner’s on!”</p><p>“Well, that was fast!” she said as she crossed their campsite. “Don’t tell me you-“ she stuck her head in through the tent flap and trailed off into silence. She surveyed the flowers, the candles, the blanket, and Mando. Inside his mask, his mouth worked silently as though he were chewing on a particularly difficult nut. Finally, after what felt like an hour, Cara broke into a broad grin. She started clapping slowly and ducked to step into the tent.</p><p>“Well played, Mando,” she said, looking left to right. “Well played, indeed. Score one for you. Flowers? Candles? What’s this?” She bent to look at one of the ration packs and laughed aloud. “Holy shit! MP-1s, same as they gave the Droppers! Where the hell did you find these?”</p><p>“Lotta Rebellion-era gear still circulating,” he managed. “Just had to dangle some money under someone’s nose.”</p><p>“I hope it wasn’t <em>too</em> much money. This stuff tastes like boiled ass.” Cara sat down next to him, legs crossed, and examined her ration pack. “Good thing these don’t expire, at least. Is there anything else? Trained loth cat about to pop out and sing <em>Rebellion Triumphant</em>?”</p><p>“Well, there is one thing.” He reached back into the crate and pulled out a glass bottle. “Alderaanian Vrlam. Not too many of these bottles left.”</p><p>Cara’s face lit up. “Booze gifts! Oh, you spoil me!” She fluttered her eyelashes and laid one hand across her heart. “Who knew that beneath all that shiny beskar beat the heart of a romantic? Well done, Mando.” She grabbed him by the wrist and tugged him down to her level, then planted a kiss on the cheek of his helmet. That done, she tore open the ration pack with one flick of her wrist.</p><p>They settled in across from each other. Mando wasn’t sure what to say. She seemed to be happy, but his heart was still racing. He couldn’t quite figure out why. Surely this was going well, right? He’d never been this nervous with Xi’an.</p><p>The ration packs were, indeed, nearly indigestible, but Cara didn’t seem to mind. She regaled him with stories from her Dropper days, many of which seemed to involve tricking someone into eating the nutrient paste from a ration kit without flavoring powder. Mando struggled to finish his meal. Once again, he was glad that his mask hid the queasy look on his face. A rumble in his gut told him he’d be paying for this later.</p><p>“Alrighty,” Cara said, squirting the last of the nutrient paste into her mouth and tossing the empty wrapper aside. “You scored a home run with this one, Mando, I have to admit. So you wanna fuck or what?” She reached up to her neck and began undoing the fasteners that held on her armor plates. “I think you’ve earned something special. Wanna try it in the ass tonight?”</p><p>Mando blinked. An icy spear of dread dropped down through his gullet, pierced his stomach, and melted, spreading cold fingers through his body. They gripped his heart and squeezed. “I…” he began, and stopped. This wasn’t what he’d expected at all.</p><p>“What’s gotten into you, Mando?” Cara asked. She pulled her shirt off over her head and tossed it in the corner. Her breasts spilled out and swayed back and forth. “Come on, get that armor off.”</p><p>“I… I just…” he swallowed, reached down into himself, and secured his courage. “Cara, can we talk?”</p><p>She tilted her head quizzically. “What’s up, Mando? You feeling ok? Those rations are nasty, I did warn you.”</p><p>“No, it’s…” he shook his head to clear it. “It’s just that, well, we’ve been… seeing each other for a few months now, and I wanted to see, you know, how you felt about… that.”</p><p>Realization dawned on Cara’s face. She looked around, the sweep of her gaze taking in the candles, the flowers, the bottle of vrlam (now mostly empty), and the way Mando’s fingers kept fidgeting against each other.</p><p>“Oh, Mando,” she said softly, “you dummy. Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me.”</p><p>“I just… I travel a lot, so I meet different women, and… before you, I never…” The thoughts chased themselves around Mando’s head in circles, and what tumbled out of his mouth was just so much babble. “I wanted to see if you felt-“</p><p>Cara held up a hand to stop him. The expression on her face was full of kindness, which somehow made it worse. “Mando, please. Stop. This is fun, ok? I like hanging out with you. You’re a good friend. I like fucking you, too, that’s a <em>lot</em> of fun. But that’s all it is, ok? That’s all I’m looking for right now.” She closed her fingers around his gauntlet. “I told you when we started that I wasn’t looking for anything serious, and I meant it. I like you lots, and I like the kid, but I’m not looking to be a mom.”</p><p>“But…”</p><p>“But me not buts.” Cara shook her head. “Look, if you can’t handle this, that’s fine. We can go back to how it was before. I won’t say I wouldn’t miss that cock, but you’ve got an important job. You can’t be all mopey and distracted all the time.”</p><p>“I’m a Mandalorian,” he replied, a little annoyed. “I don’t get distracted.”</p><p>“Yeah?” she asked. She cupped her tits in her hands, pushed them up and together. “Prove it.”</p><p>For a moment, Mando hesitated. But the candlelight shimmered off her naked thighs, and she half-turned away from him and winked, and the fears and frustrations he’d been hiding all collapsed back into the covert in his soul. He reached back and undid the maglocks binding his cuirass to him.</p><p>Cara sprawled back on the blanket, legs semi-spread, hair tumbling out behind her like a grease-black halo. Mando drank in the sight of her, the shape he’d become so intimately, painfully familiar with over the past few months. Curving hips, broad shoulders, the swell of her bust…. She was thick everywhere: thick thighs, a round ass, chunky biceps, and heavy breasts the size of jogan fruit (and twice as tasty, he told himself). Her pussy mound was thickly thatched with that same coal-black hair, and Mando parted it with two fingers as he traced down her body. He’d stripped down to his helmet alone, something he rarely did even with Cara, but the evening seemed to call for it. She shivered under his touch. His fingertips traced along the gentle cleft of her vulva, teasing the soft lips apart to reveal the sweet pinkness inside. She was already dewy, he could tell that at once. He rubbed once in a circular motion, orbiting her entrance, then plunged two fingers inside with a single hooked thrust.</p><p>Cara laughed aloud and bucked against him. Mando’s fingers sawed in and out of her, curling upward to tickle her most sensitive regions. His thumb found her clit and began to rub, coaxing it from its hood. Cara drew in a guttural breath and held it in. Her eyes closed, but Mando could see them rolling behind her eyelids. Her legs writhed back and forth. All the while, he kept up the pressure, now slipping a third finger into her, prising her open wider and stroking his fingertips against her velvet-soft walls. His fingers were soaked by now, dripping with her juices. He’d brought a discreet little flask of oil, but he didn’t need it: Cara’s body was welcoming him, making its pleasure known by the slick heat between her thighs. She bucked her hips up towards him, grinding against him, her coarse pubic hair rasping against his arm like a scouring pad. He caught a hint of her scent, just for a moment: musky, swampy, wet and lurid, the smell of desire unchained and unbound. He withdrew his hand and lifted it in front of his face. Clear fluid dripped from his fingers and stretched between them in narrow, clinging ropes. He leaned down over Cara and spread her legs with his free hand, then hesitated. She’d caught his eye. She licked her lips and raised her eyebrows, a devilish grin on her face. He tilted his body forward, gripping his cock, lining it up with the heat emanating from her soaked pussy. She growled low in her throat, an animal sound.</p><p>That was all the invitation he needed. His hips swept forward, and at the same time his nectar-slick hand darted down, into her mouth, between lips that parted readily to welcome him. She closed her eyes and moaned in satisfaction. Her tongue swirled around his fingers, tasting herself, tasting the wet heat he’d drawn out of her. At the same time his cock buried itself inside her, following the trail his fingers had blazed. All around him was heat and pressure, gripping warmth that squeezed him and drew him deeper. He bottomed out on the very first thrust, his balls slapping against the pink globe of her ass. It made a splattery, squelchy sound, and a mixture of his precum and her own juices dripped down the crack of her behind. Cara let out a muffled squeal and lifted her legs, wrapping them around Mando’s waist, trapping him in place. Her thighs squeezed him from both sides. They were locked together, the dropper and the bounty hunter, their bodies meeting and melding, such that neither could tell where one ended and the other began.</p><p>Mando pulled himself backwards with difficulty, straining against Cara’s enveloping legs. He could feel her cunt fighting, too, not to let him go: she was bearing down with all of her strength. He slide backwards, nearly pulling entirely out of her, before reversing course and abruptly thrusting back in. He put all of his strength into that thrust, and her eyes shot open as he hammered home. The breath flew out of her with a <em>whuff</em> and a startled expression crossed her face. She looked down at him in surprise, then grinned. With a flex of her powerful thighs, she compressed his diaphragm, forcing the air out of his lungs. He startled and reeled backwards, and she let him go. <em>We’re even</em>, her eyes said.</p><p>He pulled his fingers out of her mouth and used both hands to brace himself against the ground. He began to thrust in a steady rhythm, building speed and power as he went. He hammered downward, powering past her defenses, each impact driving her butt-first into the ground. She fought back at once, thrusting up towards him with hip-shattering force. Her inner walls pulsed and quivered. He could feel every millimeter of her. Stripped of his armor, he closed his eyes and willed away all of the HUD displays and sensor readouts from his helmet. Instead, he focused on the physical sensations: the smell of her lingering in the air, the sound of her short, sharp breaths, the warm wetness that surrounded him and beckoned him onward.</p><p>He opened his eyes, bent his elbows, and pulled himself entirely out of her. His cock slipped out with a wet <em>shlup</em>. Cara’s eyes opened and she looked down at him, frustration on her face. “Mando?” she asked. “What’s—”</p><p>He grabbed her by the hips and spun her around, so fast that she didn’t have time to respond. She let out a little cry as she landed on her stomach. “Hey, what gives?!” she asked, trying to right herself. He grabbed one of her arms and twisted it around behind her back in a dislocation hold.</p><p>“Did you mean what you said earlier?” he asked.</p><p>“Oh, Mando,” she sighed. “Really? Do you want to have this conversation again? Now?”</p><p>“Not that,” he growled. “The thing about sticking it up your ass.”</p><p>“Oh!” Cara laughed aloud. She raised her hips off the ground and reached back with her free hand to spread her butt cheeks. “Yeah, go for it, soldier.”</p><p>Mando reached down for the flask of oil and tipped it open onto his palm. The viscous goo dribbled out and pooled in his hand. He tilted it over her butt and let it drip down into the tight pucker of her sphincter. “Stars, that’s cold!” he heard her say, but he ignored her. Using both thumbs, he gently massaged the oil into the ring of her ass, then slid one thumb inside the tight hole. She let out a surprised murmur, and he rolled his thumb around, back and forth, gently working her butt open a millimeter at a time.</p><p>Finally, he straddled her legs and held his cock in one fist. “Ready?” he asked. Cara looked back and nodded. For the first time, a little uncertainty seemed to have crept into her expression.</p><p>“Just be—<em>whoa!</em>”</p><p>His shaft was still thoroughly lubricated from her dripping quim, and it slid into her backdoor in a single, fluid motion. The texture of her ass was very different than her pussy: tighter at the entrance, softer within. He pushed himself deeper, inch after inch sliding into her, until he heard her hiss with pain. He stopped there and leaned forward. “You ok, trooper?” he asked.</p><p>She looked back at him with gritted teeth. “Shut up, merc, and earn your fucking pay.”</p><p>That was all he needed to hear. He lay almost on top of her, his legs around hers, his hips bearing down from above. He began to thrust: short, quick strokes, each one going slightly deeper than the last. Cara groaned, but whether it was pain or pleasure animating her, Mando couldn’t tell. Soon he was bottoming out here as well, his balls slapping repeatedly into her cunt, splashing both of them with her still-dripping honey. She kept trying to thrust back against him, but her movements were becoming less coordinated. She was panting now, her hands clenching and unclenching. The round globes of her butt jiggled and bounced with each thrust. She was bracing herself against the floor with one arm, the other still held behind her. “Mando…” she croaked. “My hand… let me…”</p><p>The second he released her, that arm darted between her thighs and she began to stroke herself. Her fingertips found her swollen clit and applied pressure, rotating in a quick semicircle. The hard pink pearl reacted at once, straining against her touch. Meanwhile, Mando continued pounding away at her, each juddering thrust causing her whole body to jerk. His world had shrunk to himself, Cara, and the hot tightness enveloping his cock. She’d won earlier, but he would not give her the satisfaction of going two in a row. He would not.</p><p>Cara arched her back and cried out. Her hands fell limp to her sides and she collapsed against the ground cheek-first, her arse thrust into the air like a mountain promontory. A veritable fountain of clear fluid sprayed forth from her clenching, spasming pussy, splattering across both of their legs.</p><p>That was too much for the Mandalorian. He howled too, his voice joining Cara’s, and thrust forward one last time. He buried himself to the root inside her, planting himself, as though he could scour away the distance between them with one great act of physical communion. His climax seized him, and his world went briefly white. His balls twitched and began to unload themselves, firing shot after shot deep into Cara’s bowels. Five, ten, fifteen… his orgasm seemed to go on and on, and he felt his vision greying out at the edges.</p><p>Finally, it was done. Cara slumped to the ground, breathing hard, barely moving. Mando pulled himself out of her, his manhood already softening, and she toppled over as though his impaling rod had been the only thing keeping her up. Her sphincter hung slack, dripping a thin stream of cum that trickled down one thigh. He regarded it for a moment, then toppled over himself, landing with a heavy <em>thud</em> next to her. Their faces were inches apart, and they stared at each other, eye to helmeted eyeslit.</p><p>Slowly, Cara began to laugh. She chuckled at first, then giggled, then guffawed, her whole body shaking, tears leaking from the corners of her screwed-shut eyes, mouth agape. It took him a moment, but Mando started to laugh as well. He slapped his knee and rolled back and forth.</p><p>“What…” he managed, gasping for breath. “What’s… what’s so… what’s so funny, Cara?” he asked, before collapsing again.</p><p>She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and smiled. One hand rested on the cheek guard of his helmet. “You fucking asshole,” she said, and paused to giggle again. “I’m gonna be farting your cum for a week.”</p><p>They both dissolved in laughter again, the demi-roses forgotten in the corner of the tent. The flowers went on folding and unfolding, making and remaking their endless fractal pattern. Somewhere inside Mando, a small sealed box in a dusty attic rattled and thumped with frustration. But Cara was Cara, and Cara wasn’t going to change. He’d just have to learn to live with her.</p>
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